Chapter 390: Dead but Alive
Ottavia and Dietrian have not been getting along well for a long time.
This trip was a surprise for both of them. She felt that she had lost patience with such a creature, while he felt that the biochemical substances and organic liquids involved in the reproduction process of mammals The smell was terrible,
The end result was that it was unpleasant for both of them.
Their relationship goes downhill from the first impression.
When Octavia returned to her residence to make final preparations before the flight, the Mechanic Bishop was visibly relieved.
After everything was packed, she strapped herself into an uncomfortable seat on the belly of Dietrian's squat insect ship, which also served as her "bedroom" - just like the real thing The way the room looked, there was only one screen and barely enough room to stretch her legs.
"Has anyone ever sat here and tested this device?"
Octavia asked uneasily, but no one answered her.
A servitor came over silently and inserted a slender nerve spike into her temple. This thing was made both dignified and elegant.
"Ouch, be careful."
"Yes."
The cyborg muttered, staring. That was all the answer she got, and she wasn't surprised.
"You're still going to push it until it clicks,"
she told a lobotomized slave.
"Unless it comes out of my other bleeding ear."
"Death."
"Get away, O throne."
It I said "obey" three times and did it.
Then she heard it crash into something in the corridor outside, the ship shaking as it finally loaded its weapons.
Octavia's room has no portholes, but she can observe the situation through an external image feed.
Images of the Echo of the Damned's main hangar deck flashed on the screen one after another as the Thunderhawk loaded its full payload and the pod was hoisted into position.
Ottavia looked with emotionless eyes, not knowing what she was expecting.
Is this home?
Will she miss this?
If she manages to escape, where will she go?
“Oh——”
Suddenly, she looked at the screen and let out an excited and joyful exclamation in a low voice.
“I can’t believe it.”
She paused the scrolling screen and entered a code that tilted an image detector on the hull.
The loader trolley and crew transport were ferrying back and forth, and a figure appeared.
With a battered leather bag slung over his shoulder, Septimus spoke to Dietrian by the main fence, his long hair covering his facial scars, and inside his thick jacket He also wore an exquisite body armor.
A machete was stuck in his right calf, and two pistols hung low on his hips.
She didn’t know what he was talking about, there was no sound from the external viewfinder, but she looked at him and patted Dietrian on the shoulder.
Dare the slimy chrome corpse didn't seem to appreciate the move.
Afterwards, Septimus climbed up the ladder and disappeared from Octavia's sight. She could only see Dietrian on the screen returning to command his loader servitors to bring a steady stream of machines onto the ship.
As soon as she turned her head, she immediately heard a knock on the door.
"Tell me, you've got your bandana on."
She heard him calling through the metal door.
Ottavia smiled and held out her hand to check, just in case.
"You're safe."
The door opened, and as soon as Septimus closed the door he threw away his gear and gave Octavia a deep kiss.
"I was fired, just like you."
Ottavia smiled and touched the other person's face, and smiled:
"Then who will now? How about driving the Darkness (First Talon's Thunderhawk) to the ground?"
"No one, the Dark has been loaded onto this ship. Talos bequeathed it to Valiel. It is filled with apothecary's equipment and relics from the Hall of Reflections. It will be returned to the Legion in the Eye. If only we could get that far."
Ottavia's smile disappeared like the sun disappearing behind the horizon.
"We're not going that far, you know that, don't you?"
Septimus shrugged, clearly optimistic.
"Taros said, if you want me to take you, and him." As he spoke, his right hand gently touched Octavia's bulging belly.
"Go to a place where there is not so much blood."
Ottavia was stunned.
After a long time, she sighed faintly:
"That fool..."
Although it was deliberately restricted, something quickly spread throughout the battleship. The Cursed Echo was a city in space, and such a range meant that there were all kinds of people inside. On the
highest crew deck, where things are least likely to go wrong, officers and rank-and-file crew members know their roles, and they perform their duties with the same professionalism as the crew of an Imperial Navy warship.
But on the lower decks, if the news spreads, it will have serious consequences.
Talos tries to avoid this happening as much as possible.
Thousands of people fed the ship with their blood and sweat, toiling in the chambers of the reactor and on the platforms of the weapons batteries, but they had no broader understanding of the situation except Such a fact: a battle is about to begin.
Talos came to the main hangar deck alone. The surviving soldiers of the 10th Company had already boarded their pods, and their Thunderhawks were also loaded with combat equipment and were ready to be transported to the ground.
The attendants stood there silently waiting for the next order.
The Prophet walked through the quiet landing field to where Dietrian was walking down the gangway of his ship.
"Everything is ready."
Dietrian was not surprised by Talos's appearance.
Talos nodded and stared at the bishop wearing goggles.
“Dietrian, swear to me that you will do what I say, those three coffins are priceless, Markarian will stand with us, but the other three coffins must Reaching the Legion, they cannot die here with us."
"Everything is ready."
Dietrian repeated his previous words.
"Gene seeds are also very important. The stored gene seeds must reach the eyes, at all costs, swear to me."
"Everything is ready."
Dietrian rarely cares about other people's oaths. In his view, the so-called oaths are to replace calculated possibilities with hope. In short, Flawed parameters.
“Swear to me, Dietrian.”
Under Talos’s gaze, the Technical Bishop made a low stabbing sound.
"If it makes you any happier, to conclude this vocal exchange, I vow to stick to the plan and monitor the efforts of others to the best of my ability."
"Thank you."
But suddenly Dietrian didn't intend to end the conversation soon.
"Talos, it is estimated that after you leave, we will stay in the orbit of the planet for a few hours before we can determine whether there is an alien spacecraft chasing us. The unreliability of the auspicious device is a factor, drift Interference is one factor, psychic interference is another factor, logically -"
"Yes, I know, there are many factors"
Talos immediately interrupted the other party.
"Everything is up to you now. You can hide as long as you want, and run if you can."
Dietrian turned around and hesitated for a moment.
"Soul Hunter, I was wondering, should I wish you good luck?"
Dietrian glanced sideways at Talos's skull mask.
"You must understand that the thought of fate disgusts me. It defies any statistical logic, Talos."
The Prophet said nothing, but held out his hand.
Dietrian's camera freezes on Talos' goggles at that moment, his facial structure gently rotating, revealing the fact that his eyes are refocused.
"It's really interesting, working on it."
After a while, he grabbed Talos's palm.
Talos held the bishop's hand and returned the Eighth Legion's traditional warrior salute.
"Farewell, respected bishop."
Dietrian searched for an appropriate response. He was an outsider, but those ancient formal terms were traditionally used by the soldiers of the Eighth Legion in mortal battles. Said the night before.
"Under the shroud of midnight, may you live even in death, son of the Eighth Legion."
After saying that, Dietrian immediately turned around and walked up the escalator. His spaceship.
Before Talos left, he saw Setitimus standing on the top of the slope, and the slave was raising his gloved hand to say goodbye.
The prophet sneered at this gesture. Mortals are always forced by emotions to do meaningless things.
After staring for a few seconds, he nodded, greeted his former slave, and left the hangar without a word.
(End of this chapter)